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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874561">They Were Just Kids (Until They Weren't Anymore)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalecAcid/pseuds/MalecAcid'>MalecAcid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TUA Creators Bingo [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, No Incest, Pre-Canon, Uniforms, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Vanya Hargreeves-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:14:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalecAcid/pseuds/MalecAcid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't blame them. Or, she tries not to. She knows that it's not their fault, she knows that they were just kids. Just little kids. She knows that they all had just wanted to make their father proud back then, even her. She knows that if she asked any of them they would all deny it. Knows that if she was asked she would deny it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vanya Hargreeves &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TUA Creators Bingo [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>They Were Just Kids (Until They Weren't Anymore)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My first TUA creators bingo fic not being Ben or Klaus centric? More likely than you'd think. (I surprised myself with this kckxkcksk)</p><p>Also trigger warning for descriptive feelings of drowning and kind of suicidal thoughts</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The uniforms were probably the worst thing, Vanya thinks. </p><p>The disconnect from her family had always been bad, of course. From before she could remember her father had taken her away, kept her away from her siblings. Not that they had much to say about it anyways, completely content with each other. Completely content with leaving her behind. </p><p>She doesn't blame them. Or, she tries not to. She knows that it's not their fault, she knows that they were just kids. Just little kids. She knows that they all had just wanted to make their father proud back then, even her. She knows that if she asked any of them they would all deny it. Knows that if she was asked she would deny it. </p><p>Not that it mattered, though. She hadn't seen them in years. Besides seeing Klaus in the occasional alleyway, or Allison on her TV screen, she hadn't really seen her siblings in so long. </p><p>Too long. </p><p>She found that she missed them, but cursed herself for that thought immediately. What was there to miss? Absolutely nothing. The only two siblings who gave her any amount of attention were gone, had been gone for years. The rest never cared, never would care. </p><p>Her heart ached with how much she missed them. She missed Ben, she missed Five, she missed Allison and Luther and Klaus and Diego and- </p><p>She missed them. She shouldn't, but she does. </p><p>She clenches her fists from her spot on the couch, and feels the skin on her wrist pull from the motion. She looks down to see the empty spot of skin. The empty spot of skin that should've been covered with dimming ink, ink that never would have gotten redone, ink that hadn't been redone on any of her siblings, save for Luther. She clenched her fist in rhythm with the clenching of her heart, the thoughts in her head drowning the noise of the surrounding apartments. </p><p>The tattoos. The training. The missions. She knows now that it was awful, all of it. She doesn't wish that she had been covered in blood coming back from every mission as Ben had, she doesn't wish that she had been almost drowned by her own father like Diego. She really doesn't. </p><p>It still hurts, though. It always has, even though her frame of mind around the whole ordeal has changed. She feels like she's drowning in it, the loneliness. </p><p>That's the thing that's never changed, the loneliness. It's the one thing she thought would change. But it didn't, and she was stuck, doomed by her father, by her upbringing, to forever be cut off from people. To never have made any connections, to never have friends, to never have a family. </p><p>The drowning feeling never stops, especially in moments like these. Moments where she thinks back on the past, moments when she thinks about her horrid present, almost wishing she could go back. Almost. </p><p>Drowning wasn't fun. She learned this at age eight, hearing Diego cry to their mom across the hall from her room, could almost see the way she patted his head comfortingly, listening intently as he sobbed and gasped for breath, almost as if he had just been released from the dark tank of water, even though he had left individual training an hour ago. </p><p>The feeling of drowning isn't fun. Vanya learns at age twenty seven, sitting there gasping for breath as her thoughts consumed her. Clawing at her own chest as if she could rip the pain right out of her own heart. As if it wasn't there to stay. </p><p>If thinking about the tattoos and training hurt, thinking back to the missions left Vanya feeling worse than ever, feeling as though she were twenty feet deep into the dark tank in which Reginald kept Diego for training. </p><p>Training. The worst thing about training was the way that she didn't have it. She knew now that it was a horrible, horrible thing, but back then she was consumed with bitter feelings on the matter. </p><p>And how could she not be? The idea of being focused on by her father and the possibility of making him proud had seemed so appealing, when at most she got were few spoken words, his eyes only ever on the papers in front of him. Training sounded pretty good, to the child who only wanted to impress her father. </p><p>Though thinking about training pained her, she knew that the missions were worse. During training, at least she wasn't alone. At least five out of the six of her siblings were there. Until Five was gone. And then Ben, and then her, making an escape from the big house as soon as she could. </p><p>The missions were one of the worst things. Being alone in such a large house, with only Mom and Pogo who were almost always up to something else had been such a harsh thing. The tattoos, or lack thereof, was bad. The lack of training hurt. But the missions, the missions were awful. </p><p>The house being silent was something that Vanya would never forget. How could she? The way the floors creaked loudly under her feet, the way the sound of her violin sounded eerie when it was the only sound. The way she didn't know who would come back. The way that one time, someone didn't. </p><p>The uniforms.</p><p>She clenched her fists even tighter at the thought, her nails slicing into the palms of her hands going unnoticed as her mind traveled beyond her control. </p><p>The uniforms hurt. They hurt so much. They hurt when she was younger, yes, but the thought of them now was worse than ever. The thought of them didn't feel like she was drowning, but felt like she was stuck, pounds of dirt over her confined area of space, looking as if it would collapse and crush her at any second. </p><p>When they were first given the uniforms, Vanya was surprised. She was so surprised, and so so happy. </p><p>Four year old Vanya was so happy to finally have a connection to the family. Was so happy to find that maybe this was the start of more and more connections with her family. </p><p>A year after that, her hope dimmed as they started collectively training while she watched, blowing whistles at her fathers call as they raced. </p><p>Three years after that, individual training started, and the uniform began to feel like an itch at Vanyas skin. Something there only to remind her that it was out of place, that she was out of place. And the hope was nearly gone.</p><p>More years passed, and the tattoos came, and the hope had been completely diminished. Hope wasn't a thing that the Hargreeves had, wasn't a thing that Vanya had. </p><p>The thought of the uniforms came fast, as did the assault of memories from the academy did, but this one felt like a jab. A jab at her heart, at her conscience. The uniforms were what connected her with her siblings, but they weren't connected. </p><p>The uniforms definitely hurt the most.</p><p>It didn't show at the surface, no, but the uniforms are what broke the child her into a bitter person. Bitter at the life that had been chosen for her. Bitter at the life that she was living now, one she was looking forward to so much, but one that didn't change as much as she would have liked.</p><p>Maybe her father fucked her up. Maybe she's just fucked up. Maybe this was all meant to be this way, and her life would have some redemption arc.</p><p>Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe she would be this lonely forever, cut off from the world, cut off from people. </p><p>In this state of loneliness, this stage of mind searching, Vanya almost envied Klaus. Almost envied the way he could bring back ghosts. Almost evied the way he didn't have to be lonely, even if he weren't surrounded by live people. Almost. </p><p>She almost envied the way Luther and Diego still had a sense of purpose. Almost envied the way they both felt they had a duty to the world, one that could be fulfilled in different ways, some more legal than others. </p><p>She almost envied Ben. </p><p>She shook her head, unwilling to go down that hole. Unwilling to open that can of worms. Unwilling unwilling unwilling-</p><p>She needed a glass of water. </p><p>Standing was a much harder task than it should've been, her hands shaking and breath coming in short gasps doing nothing to help her dry throat and shaky legs as she stumbled to the kitchen. </p><p>Grabbing a dirty cup from the sink and filling it with water, Vanya brought the full glass to her lips, drinking it all in only a matter of seconds. </p><p>Throwing the glass back in the sink was probably a mistake, she thinks, as she hears the glass shatter. Stumbling to her bedroom, she collapses on top of the covers, a dizzy feeling in hereeling nauseous as she lies there, almost begging the feeling to go away. </p><p>When it eventually does, she sighs, wishing that she could have fallen asleep, wishing that she could have been unseeing of the world and her own thoughts for a few hours, but no luck. </p><p>Walking into the kitchen, feet much steadier than before, Vanya looks inside the sink to see the shattered glass, groaning at the thought of future-Vanya cleaning the mess up, before going back into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. </p><p>Flipping on the TV, Vanya sighed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift off, thoughts on her past leaving her mind as she cursed the Umbrella Academy Halloween costume she saw in the store window.</p>
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